Days of Summer
by AngelisIgniRelucent
Summary: "We've got these days of summer to remind us of each other." These last weeks of too much sun and not enough sunblock and the freckles that make a shy appearance on his face in the light.


**This is just your standard 'Kurt's off to college' fic … so yeah, the beautiful song is 'Days of Summer' by the marvellous Darren Criss (makes me cry **_**every time**_**) and I don't own it or Glee. **

_We got these days of summer  
>To remind us of each other.<em>

These last weeks of too much sun and not enough sunblock, the freckles that make a shy appearance on his face in the light and the way he squeals (_not _like a girl, thank you very much) when you shake the chlorinated water from your hair and accidentally-on-purpose soak his favourite shirt. The way his hair goes two tones lighter, right down to his eyelashes, and the way his glasz eyes shine when he smiles up at you from under them. The way he laughs at the melted ice-cream dripping all over you and the way he'll kittenishly lick it up and blush a rosy pink when he catches you staring.

_The time we have to spend apart  
>Will keep us in each other's hearts.<em>

You want to have him memorised perfectly in your head – a picture perfect image that you can call upon when you're feeling down. And of course it won't be as good as the real thing – it won't sparkle or laugh or make snarky comments about that lady across the street's clothes – but it'll be all you've got, so you'll have to make do. And, as clichéd as it sounds, he's a handprint on your heart, an imprint on your soul, a tattoo inked across your skin, a song that won't leave your head – so he won't _really _be that far away.

And, of course, the images will fade over time, like old photos left too long in the glare of the sun and too many eyes, and, no matter how careful you are with only taking them out of their box when it's dark and you're alone, you'll still lose the exact shade of his eyes, the precise swoop of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips. But surely, you tell yourself, surely that will make it all the sweeter when you see him again, and you meet his eyes and oh, of course – his eyes are that heady mix of blue and green and grey that you've never really been able to pin down.

_And I hope the good old days are  
>Something I will dream about at night –<em>

And you know there'll come a point when you dread the mornings and you rush to bed too-early at night, because no waking world is ever better than dreaming of him. And you will – you'll dream of him. You'll dream of these days of summer and all the ones that have gone before, wishing you could spur the days into a sprint, or that the sun could implode or something, just so you could sleep the days away and dream.

_Don't matter if it's sooner or later,  
>I know that it's gonna be alright.<em>

But, no matter how they drag, they _will _go by eventually, those days. And you're sure they'll feel much longer than these blissful, lazy summer days, but they'll go. And then you'll see him again, and you can almost taste the sweetness of the reunion, of his strawberry lip balm on your tongue.

_I don't wanna see you go,  
>But it's not forever, not forever.<em>

But you think that seeing him go will be the hardest part – seeing him walk away from you and knowing that you won't see him again for what will feel like a lifetime or forever or something. But you know that you'd live through a billion lifetimes and forevers to hold him in your arms again, and that's what will keep you strong.

_And even if it was, you know that  
>I would never let it get me down.<em>

But it's the uncertainty that kills you. Because, on the one hand, you're _you _and he's _him _and you were _made _for each other. But the last thing you want to do is be the boyfriend back home, holding him back. So you put on your mask, pulling it out from where you buried it, cracked and dusty from disuse, and you whisper it in his ear one night that you love him and you always will, and you know he feels the same way _now_, but if that _ever _changes, he's to tell you _right away_. Because, yes, it'll hurt, but you'll be _fine, _and he'll be _so _much better off. That's what you tell him, but you grit your teeth when you say 'fine', and you block your ears against his teary promises, because it _hurts_ how hard you wish they'll ring true.

_Cos you're the part of me that  
>makes me better wherever I go,<em>

And, no matter what the future holds, you know that he'll always be the best part of you. You know that he thinks he depends on you more than is fair, but if only he knew how much _you _rely on _him_. He saves you every day, and the memory of him, even if it's faded and not-quite-accurate, will continue to save you, no matter which path he chooses.

_So I will try not to cry,  
>But no one needs to say goodbye.<em>

And so you tell yourself you won't cry – you don't want to make him feel guilty for following his dreams – but, hell, you know you won't be able to stop yourself. You'll smile through your tears, though, because you're _so proud_ of him and of what he's doing after all that he's been through. You'll kiss him through the tears too, because you don't care that you're in Ohio and that everyone's giving you funny looks, because, goddammit, you'll kiss your boyfriend if you want to. And then you'll whisper your 'I love you's and he'll be gone. Because you'll never say goodbye to him.

**Sorry if that was a little … not as happy as mine usually are … thoughts?  
>xx<strong>


End file.
